


En Vogue

by BloodInTheWater33



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Development, Denial, Explicit Language, Fangirls, Humor, Izaya and Namie are best frenemies, M/M, Model AU, Model Business - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Promiscuity, Slow Burn, Social Media, Unresolved Sexual Tension, slight crack, this was supposed to be serious but I had too many opportunities not to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-18 05:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodInTheWater33/pseuds/BloodInTheWater33
Summary: After Shizuo’s temper gets him fired from his job as a bartender, he’s left with no other option than to finally accept the modeling contract that Kasuka’s agency JackO’Lantern has been molesting him with for the past three years. His heavenly looks and natural talent make the Tokyo fashion world go crazy over him – and as if the insanity of the model business and his new life in the public eye weren’t already enough to deal with, his thunderous rise to fame and fandom makes him the biggest rival of the current Number One: Izaya Orihara. Really sucks that their passionate hate for each other is seen as something else by the public.





	1. Not For Sale

„Kasuka, I’m not that desperate“, Shizuo told his counterpart, a blush of embarrassed anger tinting his cheeks as he stared down into his bowl of udon soup. His anger was not directed at Kasuka but rather at the very idea he had just proposed.

The brothers were having lunch together in one of the fancier restaurants in Ikebukuro, both incognito. While for Shizuo it was enough to simply go out in casual clothes to become unrecognizable to the people of Ikebukuro, Kasuka had opted for thick black shades and a gray hoodie with the hood drawn closely over his head which gave him an uncanny resemblance to Tumblr’s  anon icon.

His two bodyguards were sat at a table a little farther in the back, alibi tea in front of them and large newspapers in their faces, the kind-of-obvious holes in them suggesting they took too much inspiration from spy movies.

 “Modeling is not a bad career, Nii-san.”, Kasuka argued, the sparse glimpse of his face that was still visible indicating absolutely no emotion.

Shizuo didn’t really listen, still in his angry bubble, making a fist under the table and purposefully not around it. “These industry bastards are using my little brother to get to me. Disgusting. I really want to punch them.”

“I don’t think this is necessary, after the last three times.”

Shizuo grumbled something to himself about idiots and persistency.

It was true that Kasuka’s talent agency was ridiculously persistent in trying to make a modeling contract with Shizuo Heiwajima.

JackO’Lantern might have almost lost a talent scout to Shizuo’s temper back when they first sent one to approach the blonde when he was 19; but that didn’t deter them from trying again and again to sign him. After two more talent scouts (who must’ve been either very reckless or very desperate for provision) were sent flying into the next district, one should think they’d finally give up. Instead, the agency had changed strategy, and had started to regularly ask Kasuka, who they had signed instead of his brother, if he couldn’t, maybe, _pretty please_ convince him to sign a modeling contract with the agency.

 Up until now, Kasuka had always ignored the requests, knowing that Shizuo didn’t like the idea. But when Shizuo confessed that he had lost yet another job, he came to the conclusion that all things considered, modeling might be a good option. He himself had modeled successfully for a year before his first acting role, and the fact that JackO’Lantern was so inclined should say something about Shizuo’s potential success in the business.

 

“Modeling could provide very well for you, financially.” Kasuka tried again. He knew his brother had financial troubles. When things had gone hard in the past Kasuka had offered Shizuo a loan which he always declined, saying he didn’t want to be indebted to his little brother. He would never have asked to have the money back, actually. But of course Shizuo’s pride would never allow him to live down a donation like that, especially since he firmly believed to be the plight of the Heiwajima family and didn’t want to trouble them any further.

Shizuo answered Kasuka’s argument with an even deeper scowl.

“I’m not gonna sell my body!”

“We are talking about modeling, not prostitution”, Kasuka deadpanned.

A mouthful of miso broth sprayed past Kasuka’s head as its owner choked upon hearing such a lewd word out of the mouth of his baby brother. It was a miracle that the spray missed him entirely as Kasuka hadn’t moved to dodge at all. Shizuo’s face went beet red. Sometimes, Kasuka was surprised how prudish the blond really was.

“Alright, I don’t wanna _show off_ _my body for money_. It’s close enough to…”

“Prostitution.”

“Stop saying that word! You’re way too young to even say that!”

And sometimes, Shizuo went a little over the top with his big brother role.

“We aren’t even three years apart.”

“Alright, Alright, whatever. Point is, it’s indec-“

Shizuo could only just stop himself when he remembered this was the very job Kasuka had started out with.

“I-I mean, it’s okay if it’s okay for you, I respect that. _I_ just don’t wanna do it.”

Then he sighed exasperatedly, as if the whole discussion was too strenuous for him, and pushed a hand through his blond locks before letting it fall back onto his thigh.

“Look, I appreciate that you wanna help me get a job but I gotta get through this myself.”

“That’s okay, Nii-san. But please do me a favor.”

“Yes?”

“Think about it, at least.”

The elder Heiwajima hesitated before giving a reluctant nod.

“Alright. I will.”

 

He wouldn’t.

 

 

*********

 

 

At home, Shizuo was lounging around in his studio apartment with nothing to do and only his thoughts as company. Which wasn’t good company. Not that he minded being alone – whether out of the habituality of being avoided or out of natural inclination he couldn’t tell anymore after spending most of his life like that –No, not being around other people was not what bothered him about being unemployed. _Being unemployed_ bothered him. He was bored at home with nothing to do after cleaning the small apartment a third unnecessary time, and that was exactly why _lounging around_ was actually not a fitting description for what he did at all. He couldn’t sit still on his sofa, or anywhere else for that matter. He kept standing up, sitting back down, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, fiddling with objects and breaking at least two pens and one cup no matter how hard he had tried not to, which just frustrated him even more.  He wished he could see this as a well-deserved holiday, but of course there was nothing relaxing about existential insecurity. So even though he had dearly needed a break after working 6 days a week for months at a bar that didn’t pay him well, working too hard was nothing compared to the stress he was going through at the moment. Lunch with his brother had been a welcome pastime, but now that it had passed, it seemed like a minute in a day. The more stressed out he felt the more he smoked, but cigarettes were expensive, so the increased spending stressed him out additionally which made him crave more nicotine. It was horrible.

And it was only day five of his unemployment.

Being alone with his own thoughts made him ruminate the incident that caused his current situation, how he could’ve avoided it, or how he could or should have acted differently. But to be completely honest, he couldn’t bring himself to truly regret what he had done.

 

_It was a busy night at the bar, a Saturday that had brought college students in a mood to get drunk after a week full of exams. The bar was not situated in a college area, but on days like this the flood of alcohol-thirsty young people always washed up a good amount of them into every bar accessible by train and footwork, and the one Shizuo worked at was apparently considered cool enough to be filled with the sociable, stylish type. He was tending the bar together with two other colleagues. As always, the whole first row of people at the bar counter consisted of drunk women staring at him, which made it a bit difficult for the second row, people trying to order drinks, to get their requests through. He didn’t get why these women kept doing that, coming here to stare at the feared and famed Monster of Ikebukuro from close up like he was some kind of circus freak, some even being brazen or reckless enough to mock him with comments like “take me into your strong arms Heiwajima-san” or “carry me to heaven, you beautiful demigod” or “please fuck me over a building edge holding me up in the air with one single hand”. He had enough insecurities already, why did they feel the need to make fun of him like that? Well, he had stopped getting angry and embarrassed a long time ago, so tonight that was not the issue._

_The issue was the two guys farther in the back of the lounge creeping closer and closer towards a girl who had seemingly been deserted by her friends and was now sitting on a bank in between them looking uncomfortable and, judging from the slowness of her movements, very drunk. Nothing had happened so far but Shizuo was more than suspicious and kept glancing over to them. He had a bad feeling. Ten minutes after noticing them he sent one of his colleagues over to check out the situation. When he came back he just shrugged, telling Shizuo the guys said they were friends of her giving her company while she was waiting for her ride to pick her up. Shizuo didn’t believe that bullshit for a second. The guys had the body language of predators, leaning forward into her space, and she had that of scared prey, backing away as far as possible, closing her thighs. He could already feel anger boil up inside him at the sight._

_But when he saw one of them put a hand under her skirt,_ he fucking lost it.

Shizuo didn’t remember everything clearly or chronologically, since the deep fog of red hot burning anger had been clouding his mind and judgement, but suddenly he had been over there smashing one of them into a nearby table, glasses crashing, liquid spilling and wood splintering as the table collapsed under the pressure, the shocked college kids around the table scrambling away in panic; either before or after that he had grabbed the other one and thrown him through the glass door that shattered with a loud crunch, all while shouting something about having some damn basic respect for women and always having to take the trash out himself as he threw the second guy after the first through the hole that was once a glass door. As soon as those human trash cans had been out of his sight, his anger had dissipated almost instantly. Around him: a room filled with college students stunned into silence, damaged furniture and crushed glass on the floor.

And as he had come back to his senses he had started to hate himself. Even when the girl that had been molested had thanked him for saving her, even after the drunk as fuck college kids had started to cheer, shouting “how cool” it was to see “some asshole be smashed into a table” and some girls had called him a “hero”. He hadn’t felt like a hero. He had felt like a guy who knew he was going to lose the job he had been able to keep for the longest time, and when the manager had asked him to follow him into a back room it hadn’t helped that he had given him such a commiserative look, or that, _as much as he appreciated that Shizuo stood up for a girl who couldn’t defend herself, he couldn’t ignore that innocent people could’ve seriously gotten hurt, and that some people got splinters of glass and wood  stuck in their bare arms and not to mention the damage to the furniture.._. Shizuo understood that. Of course he did _. But Shizuo was a good bartender_ , the manager had added weakly, and _he would find a new job for sure_. Shizuo had just nodded. It didn’t make him feel better. They both knew how unrealistic that was. He was The Monster of Ikebukuro, after all. Most bar owners wouldn’t even let a _clumsy_ person near their liquor bottles.

 

 

Regardless of his chances, he tried. The past week had been spent researching what job vacancies there were in the area and asking in bars and shops that hired untrained workers if they could use some help. Another good option for him, he figured, was logistics since heavy lifting was _definitely_ not an issue for him. As a result, he had been doing a lot of footwork as well: he wanted that the employer could get to know him personally before his name and the reputation that came with it could destroy his prospect of getting hired. It was a small chance that this strategy provided but at least it was a chance. Many times he was turned down because the employers figured from his CV that he had been fired very often in the past but most of the time they recognized his name when they asked for it and gave some kind of lame excuse why they couldn’t hire him even though they had been interested at first. 

That was the worst. It proved that he could be leading a normal life if he wasn’t such a freak of nature. It proved that his qualifications weren’t the problem – but who he was born to be. And still, he would keep trying. He didn’t want to disappoint his family even more than he already did. The threat of becoming unemployed in the long term and losing his apartment would be bad enough. But what really worried him about it though was the dishonor that being in such a situation would mean for his family. He knew in his heart that they were always ready to support him, especially Kasuka, but having to sustain off of the help of his family would add to his self-loathing in a manner he wouldn’t be able to stomach. So far, he simply tried to stay positive and not to worry too much. This wasn’t the first time he had been unemployed and he had always been able to find a new job. There were still loads of job vacancies that he hadn’t applied for yet and his savings could sustain him for a few months. Enough time to find a job.

 

Shizuo threw another look at the kitchen clock before sitting back down on the couch. It was still too early in the day to go to the bars, so he ended up zapping through TV channels uninterestedly in hopes of finding a distraction from his own thoughts. After a while, he settled on a lifestyle and pop culture channel that would hopefully lighten up his mood. Not that he liked those – they were way too superficial, judgmental and sensational for his taste. But this one was broadcasted from Ikebukuro and sometimes they had Kasuka in an interview or showed a trailer of a new film he starred in or at least made some kind of passing comment about him.

No such luck today. Instead of Kasuka, they talked about that Orihara guy whose face was on half the billboards in Tokyo these days. Apparently, the guy was part of a new campaign of yet another big brand and the two quirky girls hosting the show kept squealing about how _super hot_ he was and what _smoldering looks_ he gave the camera while the large screen behind them showed the campaign photos. Shizuo couldn’t stand that guy for some reason. He seemed like an arrogant prick with his constant smirk and his eye color was weird and it was simply annoying to see that face around every corner. He really didn’t need any more annoyances today.

Shizuo turned the TV off. It was probably best to just take a nap until seven.

 

 

 

*********

 

 

In the following weeks, Shizuo’s situation grew worse.

Being turned down by employer after employer made him gradually more hopeless, and the frustration was making him irritable. His attempt to smoke less to save money didn’t exactly improve his anger management either. The smallest things were enough to set him off, and if that wasn’t trouble enough, there were more than a few people who were actively trying to provoke him now that he roamed the streets most of the day, mainly thugs who couldn’t tell the difference between brave and stupid. Soon, he was involved in brawls with gangs and thugs frequently, his violent breakouts causing vast destruction to the city and to his last remaining chances to get employed by anyone who possibly hadn’t heard of the fearsome Shizuo Heiwajima yet.

 

Over the past year, Ikebukuro had almost forgotten about the threat of The Monster of Ikebukuro, the ticking time bomb inside their ranks, the personification of violence. He simply hadn’t had much occasion to get into fights during the time he had been working at the bar due to the amount of hours he was busy working there. But after only a few weeks of unemployment the famed Shizuo Heiwajima was living up to his reputation to the fullest once again. He was caught in a vicious cycle of failure, frustration and violence that he couldn’t escape, and that made him sink deeper and deeper into the pits of self-loathing with every passing day. In an attempt to save the city from himself he took to drinking, the only thing he knew that effectively made him a docile, peaceful fellow.

 

 

At this point, his faerie best friend hadn’t heard from him in almost a week. That wasn’t unusual.  He didn’t answer her text messages as well, which in itself wasn’t too worrisome either since he oftentimes forgot to charge his phone, but after visiting his apartment and finding he wasn’t there the combination of factors was more than enough to worry her, so she decided to go look for him.

After hours of searching the streets, Celty eventually found him in an alley, sitting on the ground with a bottle of hard liquor in his hand and looking absolutely miserable. It was a sight Celty had hoped to never witness. The way he distractedly played with a loose button on the cuff of his white sleeve indicated that he was indeed very drunk. He looked so distracted that Celty turned on the automatic reader of her PDA to grab his attention.

“What are you doing here, Shizuo?”

Judging from the way Shizuo gave a start upon hearing a loud electronic voice talk to him, it worked.

“Huh, what?!”

Looking up, recognition flashed over his features.

“Ah, Celty”, he sighed and stretched a little, then relaxed his back against the wall and cocked his head back to look up at his leather-clad friend.

“Figured I could already start practicing bein a bum in my situation”, he joked, a momentary look of cynism crossing his features before he placed the rim of the bottle against his lips, as if to demonstrate his diligent practice. Celty didn’t find it funny.

“That’s just stupid”, the automatic voice blared, and both of them jerked this time because Celty had forgotten to turn it back off. She hurriedly did so and typed away before shoving the device into his face.

_It’s stupid because you’re not a lost cause and you’re not homeless_

“ _Yet_ ”, he scowled. Celty had never seen him so bitter before.

_Come on, let’s go to the park. I can’t stand to see you like that._

She stretched out a black hand towards him. He scowled at her childishly for a moment, and then he grabbed her hand and let her drag him up. It wasn’t so much the physical support that he needed to get up but the moral support that the gesture provided. Like so often, Celty was the one to save him from himself.

After some minutes of walking silently next to each other, they sat down on a bench underneath a tree in a park nearby. The surroundings eased his troubled mind a little.  It was green here and the air was fresher than in other parts of Ikebukuro. He’d applied as public park gardener but town officials wouldn’t let him anywhere near public property voluntarily.

 _You need to talk,_ read the PDA that was shoved into his face from the side. For a second he thought she had forgotten the question mark, but she hadn’t. It wasn’t meant as a question.

“I guess”, he answered unhelpfully.

They were silent for another few minutes. At some point Celty wasn’t sure if Shizuo had trouble finding the right words or if he was too drunk to find any.

“I…”, he started but trailed off again.

 “I dunno what more I can do yknow… I tried everything… they jus don’t want me”

Shizuo sighed, hung his head low and stared at the ground. It reminded Celty so much of a sad little puppy that she had to fight the urge to pet his head.

 _Are you sure? Maybe you forgot some option that you didn’t apply to, and didn’t think of before_ , Celty offered.

The now ex-bartender seemed to ponder that, and as he did, he started to look increasingly uncomfortable. He shoved a hand into his bleached hair, chewed on his lower lip, scratched his foot against the floor.

“Yeah I actually got an offer some time ago.” He sounded almost sober now.

 _And?_ Celty asked timidly, hoping he wasn’t talking about the yakuza.

“It’s kind of… demeaning”, Shizuo admitted, his cheeks flushing more than the alcohol could have effected.

_Oh, I see. But male strippers are a lot more respected these days, and it’s not a bad job to do._

The blond gaped at the PDA and flushed even harder.

_“WHAT?!”_

_Is it not that? I’m sorry, it kind of sounded like that’s what you were talking about_

She typed quickly, embarrassed that she had been so sure he would get offers to work as a stripper, and snatched the PDA back almost too quickly for Shizuo to finish reading the text.

_What is it then? What job offer did you get?_

“No, _no_ , it’s not that” he answered, still recovering from the shock.  “Kasuka’s agency, they offered me a modeling contract again. It’s just… I’m pretty much selling my body, right? Look at all these sexualized ads these days. Now that I think about it, it’s not better than being a stripper. As a stripper you undress in front of a small crowd but as a model you undress in front of the whole world. Or at least, all of Japan.”

That comment definitely led to some confusion on Celty’s part.

_I’m sorry, what? Did they want to hire you as a porn magazine model?_

Shizuo choked on his own spit. Why did everyone have to be so _blunt_ recently?!

_I mean, unless you are hired as that or as an underwear model you don’t necessarily have to strip at all. If THAT worry is the only thing that keeps you from trying out modelling, you should definitely go for it!_

The dullahan's pace of typing picked up.

_Actually, don’t you think it’s an honor to be asked to model? Many people dream of getting that chance. Now that you say it, I remember you said that before. That Kasuka’s agency wanted you to work for them?_

“Yeah, they asked me first and then Kasuka, some years ago… and a few times after that…”, Shizuo mumbled.

_If they are so keen on getting you to work for them they must be really sure you will be successful. Shizuo, you gotta try it!!_

She was obviously excited for him, black smoke whirring and swirling inside her helmet which looked like a tiny captured thunderstorm through the glass panel meant for the eyes she didn’t have (or at least, not with her). Shizuo was not nearly as excited and couldn’t keep up with her whip-quick typing.

Celty caught on to that. She stilled and took a deep breath. Well, that was what the movement of her chest looked like. Then she started typing again.

_I think you should take the chance and listen to what the agency has to offer you. Few people get this opportunity, you know. It’s a dream job for many. I’m sure if they really want you, they’ll give you more leeway and you can have a say in what jobs you take. You won’t have to undress if you don’t want to. And if you are successful, it’s going to pay more than just your bills._

This time, Celty gave Shizuo a lot of time to look at the text, enough to read it several times and think about it in detail.

The way she worded it, it really didn’t sound like such a bad thing anymore. Suddenly, he realized that in all this time when the talent scouts had come one after the other to nag him about going to this or that audition he had always outright rejected them (or more accurately _e_ jected them, namely into the sky) and had never actually realistically thought about it, just focusing on the annoyance the talent scouts posed to him and not on what they actually had to offer.  

Maybe Celty was right. Maybe modeling wasn’t so bad.

 

Or maybe he was just that desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.
> 
> This is going to be my first fanfic with a lot of plot and a lot of chapters and I am very excited about all the good stuff to come. I had this idea in my head for quite a while because to me it is so obvious: Shizuo is smoking hot, he lives in the entertainment district Ikebukuro, there are talent agencies at every corner, his brother is an actor... so what would have happened if he had accepted the offer of that talent scout? How would he fare in the model business with his short temper and inhuman strength? And then, the last straw was Ketsu OVA Dufufufu!! when Shizuo stepped out of that sportscar wearing a suit, looking like a damn supermodel and taking the last of my remaining sanity, I guess.
> 
> English is not my native language so the probability is high that I mess up the tenses somewhere or use a word construction that doesn' actually exist in the English language, in that case feel free to point it out. Thanks for reading, I'd be incredibly grateful for some reviews!


	2. The Possibility Of A Deal

In the evening, Shizuo called Kasuka to let him know he was willing to hear JackO’Lantern out and told him to ask them for an appointment on his behalf.

As one of the most successful actors the agency had under contract that was no problem for Kasuka. He had regular contact with the CEO and management, had all their phone numbers in his contact list. Less than half an hour later Kasuka called back, telling him that he had an appointment at the agency tomorrow at eleven AM. Furthermore, Kasuka would accompany him to the meeting since he had business there anyway and he wanted to support Shizuo where he could.

Upon hearing that, warmth spread in Shizuo’s chest. Even though there was no sign of emotion in Kasuka’s voice, the pure affection that the statement conveyed meant more to him than he could put in words. With a smile, he thanked him and they arranged to meet outside his apartment at 10:30 for Kasuka to pick him up before ending the call.

 

Only then, it crossed his mind that he had gotten an appointment much _much_ sooner than he had expected. As busy and important as everything had to be at a talent agency like Jack O’Lantern he had prepared to wait three days for a meeting at the very least. Had something else been cancelled on short notice? Yeah, that must be it.

It still wasn’t completely clear to him what they wanted with him. It never had been, really. There was nothing interesting or special about him apart from his inhuman strength, and how that could possibly be relevant in a modeling career he didn’t know. He was taller than average Japanese men but he didn’t know if that was special enough to justify their heightened interest in him. Was it that hard to get by a 185 cm tall young man in Japan that they would try three years to get their hands on him?

 

‘Get their hands on him’… Shizuo really hoped it wasn’t about that. A vague fear that some creepy old dude in the management had an eye on him and was trying to trick him into an oppressive contract to force him into sexual stuff was one of the things that had always deterred him from the agency’s urgent offers. Their desperation just seemed fishy to him. He knew Kasuka hadn’t made any bad experiences in that department but he had only modeled for less than a year. And it was something that he heard did happen to female models shamefully often. The model industry was pretty ugly – everybody knew that.

 

Of course, it could be that they hoped to profit from his freak bonus: there was an interesting, sensational detail about him that could make a tall, conventionally attractive man like him a star for the while that people could be shocked and intrigued with this detail. Like with the female model with the amputated leg who they called the “bionic woman”*. He remembered seeing her in a magazine a while ago which he had, to no one’s surprise, purchased because it had featured an interview with his beloved brother. That was probably it, he thought and sighed. At the moment he was in no position to refuse a job opportunity, especially not based on nothing but concern and prejudice.

 

 

                                                                                                  ******

 

 

As agreed, the next morning Kasuka picked him up at 10:30 am. Instead of his sports car, he drove a much more inconspicuous black Toyota Corolla 2013 which he used whenever he didn’t want to draw attention. The building in which the JackO’Lantern talent agency resided was similarly unimpressive for the same reason. To be able to do business it was necessary to keep a low profile. The building was regularly packed with idols, famous models and actors who deserved and needed peace from nosy fans. Therefore, the high security gate was followed by security guards who, Kasuka explained to him, would control their IDs and search the car if they didn’t know all of Kasuka’s license plates by heart. Underneath the building there was a spacious and well-lit underground garage. Shizuo had never seen so many luxury cars in one place. Frankly, those alone justified the level of security the building provided.

 

An elevator brought them from the underground garage into the ground floor, a spacious lobby of a modern, stylish interior. There were two huge abstract paintings on the walls on the right side of the hall which one could only describe as a lounge, filled with plush seats and sofas. But the most stunning feature of the room was something that hadn’t been visible from the front of the building facing to the street. There was a hole in the building that was surrounded by glass walls, filled with a small garden and drenched in sunlight from above so that it gave off natural light into the lobby. He had never seen an interior that impressive before. It almost took his breath away. A garden inside a building?

 

In front of the glass wall stood the reception desk with a wide-eyed receptionist who looked so unimpressive in contrast to that that he fit the outside of the building better than the inside of it. He was a lank, black-haired guy with thick-rimmed glasses who looked like he was about to piss his pants when he saw Kasuka approach with his infamous brother in tow. Shizuo tried his best to ignore it and the rush of annoyance he felt. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this kind of reaction, but it still brought him back that familiar self-loathing every time. Why the hell did they want him if they just saw the violent monster in him?

“Ah, Heiwajima-san! G-good that you arrived safely!” the receptionist exclaimed, frantically bowing twice and apparently trying to conceal fear with enthusiastic friendliness. “You too of course, Yuuhei-san! The manager’s assistant is excited to finally meet you, Heiwajima-san. The meeting is on the third floor in Room 306. You two can go right ahead! Have a nice stay!”

“Thanks, Hisashi-san”, Kasuka answered in his usual emotionless voice, nodding slightly to him before turning to Shizuo. “Nii-san, I know where that is. Follow me, please.”

“Uh, thanks” Shizuo responded gruffly and awkwardly to the receptionist and turned to follow Kasuka to the elevator. He could hear a sigh behind him and a sound that came from the guy slumping back in his swivel chair like he had just completed the most strenuous task. Shizuo almost wanted to give him a pat on the back for doing well – in retrospective, he might have planned out his rushed speech all morning so that he’d only have to deal with the ‘Monster of Ikebukuro’ for as long as absolutely necessary. That thought made him feel sorry and slightly angry at the same time as he leaned back against the elevator’s metal wall, eyebrows drawn tightly together. He didn’t plan to hurt anyone here and _really_ hoped nobody would give him a reason to.

 

When they entered room 306 and met the manager’s assistant it became quite clear that “excited” had been a euphemism for really fucking scared. He was middle-aged, dressed in a royal blue suit and looked at Shizuo like he was a mine field and one wrong step could blow up the whole building. After bowing as a greeting the assistant shook Shizuo’s hand in American fashion, or in other words, his hand shook by itself and he tried to conceal it with a handshake.

 “Heiwajima-san, it’s so good to see you!” the man lied, inwardly cursing management for putting him in a position where that much responsibility lied on his shoulders.  “JackO’Lantern is very happy you decided to give us a chance and that you consider our offer.” That was obviously not a lie and the reason why the assistant had absolutely no room to fuck up. Little drops of sweat were beading at his hairline.

Shizuo, again, did his best to ignore that. As a result he stared at the manager’s assistant silently but that just made the man even more nervous. He kept glancing at Kasuka with pleading, hopeful eyes like he was the only one with the ability to defuse a deadly bomb in front of him. The drops started to run down his temples. Then there was an awkward silence for a moment before he suddenly rolled back to the wall behind him on his swivel chair.

“Oh! I apologize for my impoliteness! Do you want a drink?”

There was a mini fridge behind him that seemed to be full with all kinds of drinks, even champagne piccoli. Shizuo became distracted by it, thinking about how cool it must be to have your own mini fridge in your own office, and all the cool things he would put in there to keep cool if he was in the position of the manager’s assistant.  Mostly little cakes and cream puffs probably, well, whatever sweet stuff needed cooling…

 

The snap of two fingers and the monotone of his brother’s voice brought him back to reality, which was the image of a wide-eyed MA standing next to the mini fridge, paralyzed by the terrifying apprehension to have somehow offended the strongest man of Ikebukuro by asking him if he wanted a drink. 

 

“Uhm. Water, please” Shizuo responded belatedly, remembering someone told him once you should always ask for water when in a job interview. 

“A-ah, yes. _Exquisite choice_ ”, the MA stuttered, taking out a bottle of water and rolling back forward to the desk with his chair. There was a tray with several glasses on the desk which Shizuo hadn’t noticed before. Kasuka already had a can of some fancy lemonade in front of him and he didn’t know when that had happened either.

 

“So, regarding the proposition”, the MA started, trying to open the water bottle with trembling hands, “You don’t have to sign anything so far. F-First of all we would like to see how talented you are.” He spoke in an almost perfectly professional manner despite his obvious emotional state which was fairly impressive and could only stem from years of experience in the business. As professional as they were (or tried to be in Shizuo’s case) all three of them valiantly ignored how the MA proceeded to pour the water mostly beside the glass and barely inside it.

“We would send you to an audition that will consist of three parts. A fashion shoot, a runway, and an advertisement clip. This audition is, of course, completely non-committal. Both parties can get a little sneak peek of what working together would be like.”

“Oh”, Shizuo said, politely taking the single gulp of water out of the drenched and dripping glass, “that sounds pretty good?” He looked at Kasuka for a hint weather that really was good or not, and Kasuka nodded slightly.

“So what do you say, would you like to take part in the audition next week?” the MA offered, his eyes lighting up with excitement, his voice almost lighthearted now that the meeting turned out much easier than he had expected.

 

Shizuo accepted the offer. It did sound good so far but in the end that didn’t really matter: he had no choice but to try it or otherwise he might be homeless in a few months.

Now that the man in the blue business suit was less scared to screw up the whole deal (and the integrity of his bones), he explained in a much more relaxed manner that the audition would start at 8 am in the morning and that Shizuo would get an assistant for the day that would accompany him to every part of the audition and give him advice on whatever he needed – which was another relief. Even though he wished he could just drag Kasuka everywhere with him on this journey into the unknown, Shizuo knew that Kasuka was a very busy man and that that was impossible.

 

 

He was happy enough that Kasuka had apparently saved lunch time for some more quality time with Nii-san. Especially because they hadn’t seen each other or talked to each other in the past weeks. While Kasuka had probably indeed been busy shooting a new film or hosting some show, Shizuo had frankly been too ashamed of himself these past weeks to face his brother in any way.  Now, that was not the case anymore. They sat opposite of each other half an hour after the meeting in the cafeteria that was way too chic to deserve the name in front of two beautifully arranged dishes of Asparagus Mushroom Japchae**, silently enjoying both the meal and each other’s company. The thought crossed Shizuo’s mind that maybe, if they both worked for the same agency, they would see each other more often.

“Nii-san?”

“Yes?”

“You did well.”

 

Shizuo couldn’t help but smile brightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * reference to Viktoria Modesta, a model and artist  
> ** Asparagus Mushroom Japchae is a modern and more international twist on the traditional Korean dish that fits perfectly the type of cuisine that the "cafeteria" of a modern and international company or agency prepares. And if you google it you can actually find a recipe on beyondkimchee.com that sounds delicious. :)
> 
> Yes, this is a filler chapter. I admit it. I originally planned to incorporate the audition into the second chapter but that would make it way too long so the audition gets its own chapter. I know, this was just a little bite and a bit boring but please stay interested. Many things are about to happen. So many. Hang in there.


	3. Mixed Feelings

It was 7:30 am and Shizuo stood in the front hall of the agency’s building, walking back and forth between the plush seats because he couldn’t sit still on them. The receptionist’s eyes tracked his movements nervously, as if he had a live tiger in front of him and was praying it wouldn’t notice him. Feeling the gaze on his neck like a wet towel he sent the man a threatening scowl which made him jerk and sink deeper into his swivel chair.

 

The actual audition hadn’t even started and he already felt awkward, which annoyed him. He craved a cigarette but didn’t have the audacity to smoke in a building where everything looked like designer furniture. Now, he really wished Kasuka was accompanying him.

It was slightly embarrassing, really, that a grown man like him apparently needed his little brother to hold his hand – that didn’t suit an older brother at all. But Kasuka had experience with these people and he didn’t know if he could trust them. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, and Shizuo had never been one to crave the unknown. It would help to have Kasuka by his side, guiding him through the minefield of possible missteps in this industry, or the pit of snakes that it probably was.

Hell, he had spent too much time worrying what to wear for knowing that he was going to be re-dressed anyway. In the end, he had just opted for a classic pair of light blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. You get the farthest in life with politeness and confidence, his mother always told him, and that had gotten him every job he ever had in his life.

 

There would be a personal assistant for him, someone named “Imori-san”, Shizuo had been informed. What kind of person would they be? He vaguely imagined a thin, shivering guy like the receptionist. Then he imagined the whole agency to be populated with receptionist-like assistants milling about. The idea was as funny as it was annoying but he laughed a little before he could stop himself. There was no need to turn around to know the receptionist was actually shivering in fear by now.

 

Apparently, he had messaged someone about Shizuo’s early arrival – or maybe he sent an in-house circular along the lines of “please someone remove him, I’m scared” – either way, a few minutes later a guy with a slimy smile and a clipboard exited the elevator and approached him, bowing two times mid-walk already before he halted. He did actually look a little like the receptionist but not enough to be funny.

“Good morning, Heiwajima-san –!“

“You are Imori-san?!” Shizuo asked, brashness getting the better of him in the face of instant antipathy. So much for politeness. But he really hoped not. Everything about the clipboard guy screamed “abundant eagerness to please the management” and it lowkey disgusted him.

“Ah, no…” Clipboard Guy answered, his expression slipping for a moment at the rude interruption before he was back to his practiced, fake smile. “ My name is Takeshi Sato, I’m management assistant and I’ll have the pleasure of taking you to the photo studio where your fashion shoot will take place. Would you please be so kind to follow me to the elevator, Heiwajima-san?”

Shizuo was half tempted to say “no” just to set the guy off but instead he simply moved to the elevator without further ado.

The elevator ride was a pain in the ass.

 

“Today’s schedule is a little tight but please don’t worry about that. I’m going to give you a quick overview of the proceedings while we are walking over to the studio. In case you’re nervous that is _completely_ normal at a first audition and I assure you that everyone is experienced and _very nice_ so there shouldn’t be any problems. Now if you would be so kind to follow me out of the elevator and please turn left into this corridor over here, Heiwajima-san- “

“Would you _be so kind_ to stop licking my boots and _please_ get to that “overview” ?”, Shizuo sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose and concentrating on keeping his fist at his side. It was too early for this bullshit.

They either thought he was an idiot or deemed him some nervous animal that had to be shown one step at a time as to not feel threatened and lash out. Both options weren’t good for his blood pressure.

“Uh-m. Right.” The clipboard guy swallowed hard, glued to the spot, eyes wide like that of a deer in the headlights.

“First our photographer Hiroko Ono-san will take some biometric pictures of you for Jack’O’Lantern’s model register, after that there will be a simulation of a typical fashion catalogue shoot. Then, a driver will take you over to a film studio in East Ikebukuro to film a short commercial and lastly you’ll have to walk a runway in front of a jury of experts. Your personal assistant for the day should be meeting you before the fashion shoot. If you have any questions during the course of the audition, that’s who you ask.”

“Thanks. Left corridor, you said?”

 “Yes, sir.”

“No sir.”

“No, sir?”

“…Please just lead me to that goddamn studio.”

 

 

Despite all the communicative difficulties, Clipboard Guy successfully managed to drop Shizuo off at the studio, introduced him to the photographer and even wished him good luck before he left, but that slimy smile was back on his face and Shizuo couldn't help but sound sarcastic when he thanked him for his wishes.

 

The photo studio was rather small, so it seemed crammed with people even though there really weren’t that many. It felt like too many, though, with all of their eyes glued to him like their fake, nervous smiles were glued into their faces.

He didn’t want to be hostile to these people. He didn’t. But he was still so suspicious and it really didn’t help that everyone was being fake-nice to him. After all, in his perception, fake equaled untrustworthy.

 

Still, he tried to calm himself and relax and get through with it because he knew very well he couldn’t afford not to give today a chance. He didn’t want to waste Kasuka’s effort to help him get a decent job either. So he reminded himself this was just a test run, an option: he simply had to make it through the audition and if he really, really didn’t like it, well, he just didn’t have to pursue it further. For now, he chose to ignore the stares tracking him and chose to simply do whatever they would instruct him to do. It’s not like he wasn’t used to being looked at like that, after all.

The only person who wasn’t alternating between fearful staring, cramping smiles and forcing themselves to act casual and relaxed was the photographer, a woman in her early fifties who could probably be in a room with Jengis Khan himself and would still be more interested in her equipment.

He could discern that at least three of the girls were in charge of dress and make-up, one was the photographer’s assistant, and the only two other men in the room were a light guy (or something?) and another management assistant probably.

 

“Heiwajima-san, m-may I take your measurements, please?”

A shy, mousy girl with thick-rimmed glasses stood beside him, holding a measuring tape in her trembling hands. She was blushing furiously and had trouble looking into his eyes, so she looked at his chest, which seemed to cause her difficulties as well.

 “Well, that’s your job, right?”

“R-right.”

Her stutter broke his heart a little. He would never hurt someone like her.

“You… Please don’t be scared of me.”

“Oh, it’s not- I-I’m not scared”, she answered, her voice a little more stable but her hands were still trembling.

“Uh, okay”, Shizuo conceded, not convinced.

The trembling of her hands abated when she got to work carefully, like the routine of the action calmed her, which in turn made Shizuo relax more himself. Still, he noticed something was off when she kept measuring the same areas with wide, unbelieving eyes and then stopped completely to just alternately stare at the measuring tape and at his body. It made him incredibly self-conscious all of a sudden. Was something wrong with him?

“Holy shit”, she whispered to herself, and if he wasn’t self-conscious before, he definitely was now.

Additionally, hearing such strong words out of the mouth of such a shy mousy person was kind of disturbing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, insecurity tipping his voice an octave higher.

“Everything’s very alright,”she answered slowly, ominously, and then disappeared into a backroom to never be seen again.

 

What the fuck?

 

He didn’t have time to think about it though, because moments later Ono-san was gripping his arm to gently drag him over to a white background with a stool.

“Let’s get right into it, young man! I’m pumped. Are you pumped? I’ve got a new tripod, how nice is that!”

The friendly, good-humored way in which she talked to him combined with her eccentric vibe reminded him fondly of his weird aunt in Kyoto, who had visited once every few years when he was younger. She sat him down on the stool and got behind the lense.

“Just sit upright and try not to have any facial expression whatsoever!”

Apparently, he did good because she only snapped two pictures and then exclaimed “perfect!” before instructing him to assume another position. It was over very quickly, which surprised him. He didn’t expect to be so “good” at whatever he was doing (what was he doing, in particular, anyway?), and it felt strangely rewarding to be praised by the photographer for just sitting and standing and turning around.

 

When they were done, which was pretty soon, she exclaimed “Time for some make-up, young man!” making a wide motion towards the make-up table in the corner where a girl with a bright fake smile and a brush in her knuckle-whitening tight grip was already anticipating him.

“Heiwajima-san, are you okay with some make-up?” she smiled, her voice way too high to be as calm as she tried to appear. He settled down into the cushioned chair and sighed.

“Miss, please just do whatever you have to do.”

“O-okay! Thank you!”

“…You’re welcome.”

Make-up took a whole twenty minutes. He had expected they would simply dust a little powder onto his face. As it turned out, his eyes had to be lined with brown eyeshadow to make them more prominent, and she did something that she called “light contouring” which was supposed to make the bone structure of his face more prominent. The make-up artist added that they didn’t do it because he wasn’t good-looking enough but because the camera sometimes took away from someone’s natural beauty and that had to be compensated. Shizuo got a little red at the compliment.

 

After a while during make-up he noticed the stressed-out whispers around him. The staff kept looking at their watches or phones, eyed Shizuo with increasing nervousness, and then more whispering, shaking heads. Two kept messaging on their phones. They were careful not to let him hear and it set him off. The words “where is she”, “help”, “calming” and “late” filtered through which made it obvious that there was a problem. Even the make-up artist seemed to get nervous again as time passed, glancing at the door repeatedly.

The situation reached a comical climax when Ono-san crashed the staff’s failing attempt at discretion by answering in full volume to the whispering management assistant.

“It’s no trouble that she’s not going to make it, we’ll be fine! Our guest is a very nice young man, I really don’t know what’s your problem, all of you! Heiwajima-san,” she began, turning to him. “Your assistant can’t make it here in time; apparently she’s stuck in a traffic jam in East Ikebukuro. But we’ll be fine on our own for the time being, right? If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or-“she began to motion towards the management assistant but when she saw his wide-eyed fearful stare she let her arm fall to her side in annoyance. “Feel free to ask me.”

At this point, he had completely forgotten that he was supposed to have an assistant (or what he imagined to be a guide through the fashion jungle). But Ono-san really did remind him of his weird aunt (who might not even be his actual aunt, now that he thought about it. Whose sister was she?) and the fact that she didn’t worry about anything put him more at ease than all the fake smiles in the world ever could.

 

So in the end, and not lastly because of Ono-san’s enthusiasm, the fashion shoot turned out to be fun and easy. He had to change into a total of 7 outfits, one of which was a plain white T-shirt and light blue jeans, ironically.

Somewhere in between, the guy who seemed to be in constant contact with the management on his phone informed them that Imori-san was still in East Ikebukuro so she was going to meet him at the film studio instead. She would be very sorry and wishing him good luck, he said. “Things like that can always happen”, Shizuo answered, shrugging.

At the end of the shoot, he still wasn’t sure how one could be good or bad at sitting and standing and leaning against things but judging from Ono-san’s happy exclamations he was good at it and that was enough for him. She even told him he had “a natural talent” which seemed to mean just that: he didn’t need to know what he was doing to give satisfying results. With any other person he would have considered that she was lying to please him but Ono-san wouldn’t lie, she was too impulsive for that.

 

So when they were done and he and Ono-san thanked each other cordially for the good work, the staff in the room almost couldn’t believe the last one and a half hours.

This was the famous violent Fighting Machine Shizuo Heiwajima, who would throw them a mile when they pissed him off, the one who ripped street signs from the ground in masses of shaky Youtube videos? 

...Seriously? 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My guys, this was an ordeal to write. The alternative title is “Wrecked Nerves”
> 
> This chapter (and its other half which will be ch4) has been living in the basement of my creativity for 3 long months, rotting my brain and decaying my confidence in my writing skills. I rewrote it five times (I shit you not), it is the product of sweat, tears, frustration and bad moods, it scratches at the door and howls “MOTHER” to me in the dead of the night-
> 
> Ehemh. Anyway, this one right here is in fact only half of the Frankenstein's monster chapter I’m fighting with atm but I need to get something out there and get this over with so I can finally move on and get this plot going. I’m actually ashamed of myself but please accept this somewhat presentable pile of garbage and if you really don’t like it please don’t tell me about it as I have enough negative emotions towards this chapter without any help, thanks.
> 
> In the meantime I have already been working on the chapter in which Izaya appears for the first time and I really like that one *-*


	4. Imori-san

 

 

In the afternoon after he had dropped Shizuo off at his apartment the other day, Kasuka had had a meeting with one of the modeling board executives.

That was no coincidence. 

What Shizuo didn't know was that this wasn’t just any normal audition. It had been specifically arranged for him, carefully put together based on the information Kasuka had given them on his brother to minimize the chance that he would freak out and destroy something. The executive hadn't been quite glad to learn that Shizuo was rather prudish and – well, that much had been obvious – very sceptical. But that wasn't something the agency couldn't work around for as long as necessary. Creativity was a must in this business after all. It needed to be as family-friendly and inoffensive as possible to bag him.

 

 

                                                                                                         ***

  


"So, what is the job?" Shizuo asked as he followed an assistant down the hall, approaching the studio in which the next part of the audition would take place. As promised, a driver had taken him to the film studio which was situated inside a large, unassuming concrete building that had most likely been a storehouse before it became what it was today.

  
"The job is _literally_ playing with puppies" the assistant answered, a sour, jealous look on her face. The blond frowned, not sure if “playing with puppies” was some kind of model business slang, a metaphor  for something being easy, or if they would actually bring in a bunch of puppies. It only added to his confusion that she kept grumbling about how much she wanted to be covered in puppies all the way to the studio. 

The door was a heavy, soundproof metal door. A little glow sign attached to it read “filming – do not enter” but it wasn’t lit. The grumbling assistant opened the door and he was met with the sight of a huge room – almost a hall. The walls were black and tall, a large white backdrop in one corner and a large green one in another. There were bare pipes on the high ceiling, steel beams and some kind of metal… things. He’d seen them before in Behind the Scenes videos of some of Kasuka’s films, they were used to hang stuff or people from the ceiling and make them look like they fly.

The assistant lead him to the right side of the room where a bunch of people were bustling around video and sound equipment, quite obviously a film crew, while opposite to them two girls finished setting up the last props in a fake kitchen. It looked so misplaced and perfectly complete as if they had simply went and stolen an entire show room from IKEA.

 

Following the assistant like a lost little duckling, he almost ran into her back when she suddenly came to a halt in front of someone.

“Here, Imori-san. Your responsibility.” The assistant commented gruffly, made a side step, pointed at him and left without another word. As if she was delivering a package. Rude.

Shizuo would have probably felt offended by her rudeness if he wasn’t so distracted by the person in front of him.

Imori-san was a beautiful young woman. Her black hair cascaded in glossy, voluminous waves over a tailored black blazer that hugged her soft curves. She could’ve easily been a model herself. She gave him a bright, friendly smile that reached her warm greenish brown eyes as she saw him. 

A real, dazzling smile.

“Welcome, Heiwajima-san.” She said with a brief bow. “Please don’t mind her, she’s a bitter person. I’m happy to meet you.”

For a second there he forgot what speech was, gripping it back slowly with a dazed “who?” only after several seconds. But apparently she thought he was being witty and she laughed heartily at that.

“That’s the spirit!”

The sound of her laugh, its sincerity and warmth, sent blood into his cheeks.

“I have to apologize for meeting you only now. I know it sounds ridiculous but … A ramen truck toppled over on the main road and I was stuck right there. Can you believe people left their cars to pick up the packs?”

“You should’ve brought some”, Shizuo joked, surprising himself.

“I should’ve, right?” she laughed. “But to be honest I was more concerned for you. Did everything go alright?”

Shizuo felt his cheeks grow hotter. The look in her eyes was so soft and caring. She didn’t even know him.

“A-ah, don’t worry! I had a good time with the photographer. She was very nice.”

She sighed, her features relaxing.

“That’s a relief. But now I’m here for you. Come with me, I’ll introduce you to the director.”

Imori-san then walked over to the film crew in elegant strides. In the middle of the group, a bald, middle aged man was avidly gesticulating and discussing technical matters with some other members of the film crew, his back to Imori-san and Shizuo. She tapped him on the shoulder which made him pause and turn around.

“Ayato-san, Heiwajima-san has arrived. Heiwajima-san, this is Takeshi Ayato, one of our best commercial directors.”

Shizuo was slightly surprised when the director gave him a friendly smile and bowed politely.

“Good morning. I’m looking forward to working with you today, Heiwajima-san.”

Shizuo gave a polite bow too, not wanting to be rude to this person who was so respectful to him. Weren’t directors arrogant and commanding, usually?

“Thank you, I’m looking forward to working with you all, too.”

His body had been tense the whole morning on the brooding expectation to be faced with arrogant assholes all day long and having to keep an iron grip on his self-control. Now, he felt something deflate inside him. They didn’t even seem to be scared of him. He let his gaze drift over the other crew members only to see that apart from the camera and the sound guy who were clutching their expensive equipment a little bit too close, he was staring back into shy, friendly faces. Some of the girls smiled, blushing. As the crew members went back to bustling about, the director stepped a little closer to Shizuo. 

“Did they tell you anything about this commercial so far?” he asked him, voice calm and soothing.

“I’ve been told that it would be a commercial clip but not more than that.” He didn’t mention the puppy thing – it could still be just a figure of speech.

“That’s fine. The commercial we are filming today is really more of a test. The company wanted us to give them a variety of versions with different models, and the management thought that was a great opportunity to slip you in and see how well you’ll do. But of course it’s your first time and we have the time to re-shoot a few times so don’t put yourself under too much pressure, alright?”

Shizuo couldn’t help but feel at ease listening to the director. The way he talked reminded him of his one and only good teacher he had back in high school – the one who treated him like any other student.

“By the way, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from Kasuka-san, so it’s very nice to finally meet you. If talent runs in the family, you’ll have nothing to worry about today.”

“Oh, you know my brother?” Shizuo asked, eyebrows shooting upwards because he did not expect to hear that. The use of his real first name suggested that they knew each other well.

“Yes indeed, I’ve been working with him many times, on commercials and back when I was a photo director too.”

Ah. That was good. That meant he was Kasuka-approved, so he could trust him.

  
  


 

As it turned out, his job was really,  _actually_ playing with puppies: The clip would be a puppy food commercial. 

 

In a detailed instruction the director explained to him that he was to whistle or hum a happy tune while standing in the kitchen, preparing small dishes and filling them with puppy food. Then they would let the puppies in, let them eat. Afterwards, he would play a little with them.

“Just be natural” the director told him, “have fun.”

It sounded like heaven. And people got payed for that?

Really, Shizuo was having a blast. Standing in the kitchen, preparing six  little  bowls of food while humming along to a cute pop song they played in the background, he almost forgot he was being filmed as six  tiny energetic fluff balls were released. Smelling the food they rushed over to him instantly, tunneling his legs, jumping up against him and giving him some real trouble to put the bowls down as they tried to climb him and excitedly licked his hands.

It was chaotic and he almost fell over twice because they were so impatient but who could hold it against them? It was so adorable that he just laughed heartily about the little things scurrying around him and when he finally managed to give all of them their own bowl and stopped them from stealing from their siblings he crouched down on one leg onto the linoleum floor next to them, watching them enjoy their meal like a loving puppy father. After they were done all six ran over to him, eager and curious, with their tiny wagging tails up high, licking his hands, jumping at him. Unprepared for the onrush he lost his balance, toppling onto his back and seconds later he really was covered in puppies. They tried to lick his face and crawled under his shirt. He laughed again, just bathing in their affection before he carefully pulled himself into a cross-legged sitting position and two puppies out of his shirt back into his lap.

“Cut!”

Shizuo jerked in surprise as he had completely forgotten the silent film crew around him.

“That was great, congratulations Heiwajima-san!” the director exclaimed, clapping his hands together loudly which scared four of the puppies and made them huddle closer to Shizuo. He petted their tiny bodies soothingly with his large hands as he listened intently to the director.

“We’ll assess the material for some minutes to see if this is enough or if we need to film a little more or repeat something. You can stay right here and keep playing with them if you want.”

“Alright” Shizuo smiled, picking up a puppy that tried to climb under his shirt again and setting it onto his knee. He was way too infatuated with the tiny dogs to mind the arrangement. And they, too, seemed to share the sentiment. He petted them gently as they settled into his lap one after the other, getting sleepy with a full belly and the enjoyable touches of a human. As they lied warm on top of him, he leaned back against the kitchenette, barely feeling the flat handles that were digging into his back as a deep relaxation settled over him, pulling at his eyelids.

Maybe he was just going to rest his eyes a little…

  


                                                                                                                *****  


  


“Wake up sleepy head. The catering is here.”

“Hmmh. What”

Shizuo slowly blinked his eyes open to be met with the greenish-brown eyes of Imori-san. A fuzzy feeling swirled inside him when he recognized her.

“They are setting up a buffet over there. I thought you would like to join.” She offered, smiling.

“What is this, a child’s birthday party?” He asked, starting to wonder if they were intentionally spoiling him.

“I think you’re a bit large for a child, Heiwajima-san.” she suggested mirthfully. “This kind of catering is a normal part of the business. Of course such a big crew needs a proper lunch to work well.”

Shizuo nodded understandingly, a somber smile creeping onto his lips as he looked down into his lap to find the puppies still asleep.

“This would have been a great birthday surprise for me as a child, really. We didn’t have a pet because-“

Suddenly, Shizuo froze. The realization struck him like an electric shock  _why_ he’d never done this before, dripping into his stomach like cold lead.

“…because we were afraid I would hurt them.” His gaze sank down to the fragile creatures resting against him in blind trust, unaware of the danger he posed. His fingers started to tremble as the fear to hurt them rose inside his chest.

“Imori-san you need to take them- you need to save them from me-“

A warm hand was layed down on his shoulder. “Heiwajima-san.”

When he looked up Imori-san crouched down next to him, speaking to him in a serious but gentle tone.

“You handled them all this time without any fear. Did you hurt a single one of them? No. And you aren’t going to do it now.” Regardless of her words, she picked them up one by one, settling them back into the cushioned cage they had come in without even waking them up. Then, she held out her hand towards him, smiling.

“Let’s go have some lunch, hm?”

  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss me?
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, it has been long, I'm sorry. The truth is that my writing program kinda broke and then my laptop followed suit. I couldn't recover the files for En Vogue until like early May, which is why I did publish one-shots but couldn't update En Vogue. Anyway, here we are. I split the chapter "Imori-san" in two so that I can give you something now, I'll upload the second part probably around the end of July since I'm still having exams and shit.
> 
> So, we finally know who Imori-san is! What do you think of her?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please comment, that's fuel for my motivation. ;)
> 
> By the way, this fic is going to have a shit load of chapters. I have so much planned out. there is going to be more soon. Like, for example... Izaya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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